Of Beheadings and Behoovings
by Adrenaline Static Monster
Summary: Short story about a dinner party with some of the characters from Alice In Wonderland. It's not romantic, but it's a pretty good story. Read and review.
1. Beheadings and Behoovings

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **So, this is actually something I wrote for my DE English class. The writing assignment was to invite three people to a dinner party (so, in this case: a tea party) and explain what we would talk about, why we invited them, etc., etc. They could be fictional, nonfictional, alive, dead, it didn't really matter. Also, this assignment was for a writing contest at a local college and the coordinator hadn't been very clear on the rules. I was actually really proud of this story (I admit, I thought myself rather creative at time), so I was absolutely DEVASTATED when my teacher informed the class the contest coordinator told her that essay should be more than, or less than, a 100 words over 500. So this is the story before I had to crap (yes, crap, not crop) it down to around 600 words.

Also, I was reading other Alice stories and I saw that the Mad Hatter was calling Alice "Buttercup" and I thought it was really cute, so I used that in here. Oh, and **DISCLAIMER: **I don't own any of the characters, except Megan (who, as you will find out, is the narrator of this story), even though I wish I did. Especially the Cheshire Cat. PLEASE REVIEW.

**Hope You Like It,**

**she fuels the fire**

* * *

I scurried around the table, straightening a fork here, smoothing the tablecloth there, trying to make sure that everything was absolutely perfect for the three guests that would soon be arriving to my tea party. Honestly, I don't particularly like tea parties, but one of my guests did, and if they were taking time out of their day to visit me, I wasn't going to complain about whether it was a tea party, un-birthday party, or anything remotely related to the aforementioned festivities.

Satisfied with the way everything now looked, I plopped down into one of numerous chairs I'd set around the table, and pulled out my notebook. What sort of homework did I have from class today? Sifting through the papers as I was, I failed to notice the newcomer to my tea party.

"Buttercup, I hope you don't mind if we brought some more teapots," the Mad Hatter said as an introduction. "Your table looks so naked without the proper toppings."

I glanced up from the my notebook and took a tart from its tray, ignoring the fact that the Mad Hatter wasn't the only newcomer. I'd really only invited him, but anywhere he went, the March Hare went as well. "Brought some jam, too, I see."

"Of course," the Hatter scoffed, slapping some of said jam onto a slice of bread as he sat himself down a few seats away. Once finished with the task, he said to me (or, at least, I thought he was talking to me, but you couldn't really tell, what with the way he was gazing lovingly into his teacup), "You should have some of this jam, too, Buttercup. The Dormouse makes the most excellent jam this side of the chessboard."

"You told me _I_ make the most excellent jam this side of the chessboard," the March Hare exclaimed jealously, his whiskers drooping in dismay. Sniffing haughtily in the midst of his emotional agony, the crazed rabbit snatched a teacup from its place in front of him and poured some of the steaming hot liquid into his teacup.

"No, no, Mr. March," the Hatter soothed, biting into his butter-and-jam smeared bread. "You make the most excellent jam on the _other_ side of the chessboard."

"Okay, look, you guys," I said, sitting up straighter with an apologetic look plastered onto my face. "I know I invited you for tea and all, but I just realized I have this _really_ important English assignment that I _really_ need to get done."

"What is the assignment?" My second invited guest inquired upon his arrival while spearing a tart with one claw and bringing it do his mouth. The minute the sweet was enclosed within his purple jaws, however, the elusive Cheshire Cat vanished before I could answer the question.

"You know, that is _extremely_ disconcerting," I complained, angrily sipping from my teacup. "Where am I supposed to direct my question if I have no idea where you _are_--"

"Why, Megan, you silly girl, I'm right here," the Cheshire Cat grinned, reappearing in the

seat on my left. I pretended that his sudden appearance hadn't scared me. After munching happily on his tart for a moment he repeated his question.

"I need to write this story for English class," I began, leaning back in my chair and heaving a deep, melancholy sigh. "But I have no idea what I should write about. I'm having brainstorming issues."

_"_Oh, my goodness, that _is_ unfortunate," The Mad Hatter interjected, shaking his head in sympathy. "I do have trouble with those pesky brainstorms. Tell me, my dear, is your brain given to flooding like mine? Or does yours just have a lot of lightning and thunder with no real action?"

"Do you care what you write about for this assignment?" The Cat asked, popping off one foreleg and using it to extend his reach, so he could grab a blueberry tart that was sitting on the other side of the table.

I shrugged. "Not really. It's just an English assignment."

"Then why does it matter so much?"

"Well, I guess it doesn't--but, I mean--I just wanted to--I don't know--I guess it's--you

know what I mean?" I stammered, effectively confusing myself.

"Cheshire Cat got your tongue, Buttercup?" the Hatter asked in a tone of understanding, moving down a seat and patting me lightly on the hand. He then took the "In the Style 10/9" card from its perch on his hat and swiftly sliced his pocket watch in half. "Here have a bit more time to think the assignment."

"Thanks, but I don't think my teacher will accept half a pocket watch in exchange for more time to work on the essay." I sighed again, my eyes following the slow _tick--tick--tick_ of the seconds hand on the watch.

"Just rub some butter in the gears," the Hatter responded, picking up a butter knife and handing it to. "If you that, your half will grow a whole _other_ half just new, a bit like Bill's tail after Alice kicked him out of the chimney."

"You're getting it all _wrong_!" the Hare snapped, snatching the butter knife of the Hatter's fingers. "You're supposed to rub the _Dormouse's jam_ in the gears; otherwise the gears will grow in all slippery and make the time go quite faster than it should."

The March Hare appeared to be turning rather moody. Mating season must be right around the corner. A soft breath escaped through my lips in surrender; this was going absolutely nowhere. I turned to face the Cheshire Cat (or, rather, the Cat's grin, for he'd chosen to make yet another disappearing act at that very moment) and said, "I do hope you're not planning on leaving without at least _one_ cup of tea."

"Oh!" the Hatter squealed, reaching underneath his hat and pulling out a steaming cup of tea. He held the cup across the table to the Cat and, when the Cat didn't immediately grab for it, explained, "I made it specially for your un-birthday, and I almost forgot to give it to you."

Peering at the gift with suspicious eyes, the Cat took the proffered item and, with one delicately raised pinky claw, delicately sipped from the teacup. Wrinkling his nose, not quite in distaste, he commented, "Why, I do believe this tastes rather more different than usual."

Immediately following this statement, three staccato booms erupted from the cup and completely enveloped the Cheshire Cat in a thick, gray cloud that somehow managed to cover both its' victim and the victim's surrounding area. Approximately one minute the later, the offending cloud dissipated, revealing someone (something?) that was most definitely not the Cheshire Cat.

"How positively curious," what used to be the Cheshire Cat said in revelation, touching newly formed fingers to his face, feeling the absence of fur there... and then grinned. When I saw that grin, I knew exactly who it was that was sitting next to me at the table. The Cheshire Cat has an unmistakable grin that's rather unlike anyone else I've ever seen. "I've never been a human before."

Violet-striped eyes flickering to mine, and then to a tray of uneaten strawberry tarts, the Cat attempted to once again disassemble his limbs to better reach the desired treats. He yanked on his shoulder once, twice, and, after a moment, said rather calmly, "Well, now. What a bother this is. The Queen could actually behead me in this state."

"At least you can't be behooved." the Mad Hatter interjected with a laugh. "That's only for horses."

I've noticed that any Wonderland inhabitant I ever meet generally likes puns. The Mad Hatter, in particular, absolutely adores them. Sometimes I wonder what the world would be like if the Hatter got his wish and everyone would be forced to speak in puns. I imagine it would be very confusing. "Horses can't be behooved."

"Then Cats can't be beheaded."

"Anything can be beheaded."

"Then why can't a horse be behooved? They have hooves, don't they?"

"That's like saying birds could be be-beaked. It just doesn't make any sense."

"How do you really know what sense is? What do we all think sense is? How do we know who has sense or who doesn't?" The Cheshire Cat mused rhetorically. He does that a lot: asking rhetorical questions that actually make you think. "What if what we think is 'sense' is actually 'nonsense', and what we think is 'nonsense', is actually 'sense'?"

"Well, what makes you think that what makes sense actually doesn't?" I replied anyway, even though I knew it was a rhetorical question. I hadn't even started on my essay yet and what were we talking about? Nonsense, that's what we were talking about.

"What makes you think that what doesn't make sense actually does?"

I hate having conversations with the Cheshire Cat; he's an expert at talking around things. What's the point of talking about what 'sense' really is? Who really knows? Who really _cares_?

But wait... what an excellent thing to write about.

Megan, you're a genius.


	2. Aporajangle Tea

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **So this is the second version of my DE English class' story. I felt like if I really did cut the original down to five hundred words it would turn out like crap, so I ended just restarting and using some elements of the last one. I really liked this one too, though, which I why I put it on here. Technically, it should have been about eighty words shorter, but I couldn't cut it down much more, so, basically, I didn't! =D But, anyway, in case you were wondering (which I doubt, but I'll say it anyway): I got an A on the paper, so I was happy. And I got to write about something fun for once instead of just a regular essay paper. But, anyway, I hope you like it. AND PLEASE REVIEW.

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't anything in this except for Megan, the main character, and Aporajangle Tea, which I made up as well.

**REVIEW PLEASE,**

**she fuels the fire**

* * *

The tea party was running smoothly, about as smoothly as one can expect from the natives of the ever-mythical country of Wonderland. To most people, Wonderland was like Never Never Land, or Atlantis; they would _like_ to believe it is real, but most doubt its existence. This was not so for Megan, however, to whom each legendary realm was a real-life playground of enchantments. Hidden behind every mushroom and underneath every moss-covered stone lurked a delightful surprise, surprises that would shock the pristine white lab coats off all the scientific unbelievers of world.

Megan, who had not seen her Wonderland friends for some time, decided to host a pleasant little gathering. She had arranged a long picnic table so she and the invited Wonderland guests could change places periodically. Numerous teapots and trays of treats sat ready to be consumed. The first guest was the Mad Hatter, an odd young man with an affinity for puns and a penchant for anything mischievous. Next was the Cheshire Cat, a singularly strange creature with a knack for disappearing at just the right moment and answering unanswerable questions. The Mock Turtle, a rather unhappy half-calf, half-turtle blend, unable to stop sobbing unless he was singing or dancing, was the last to arrive.

This day, his un-birthday, the Cheshire Cat had made the unfortunate decision to try the Hatter's newest concoction: Aporajangle Tea. Aporajangle is a rare type of fruit that can be found growing in the Queen of Hearts' garden. Although under strict supervision, the Aporajangle fruit has a tendency to grow on the vine lacking the certain amount of gravity needed to stay in The Garden. As a result of this non-gravity, the Mad Hatter had found a lonely Aporajangle fruit floating above his home, waiting to be a delicious tea for the Cat's un-birthday. The Cheshire Cat, who was given to nonsensical shifts in logic, said nothing but, "What a bother this is. If the Queen finds out, I shall be _very_ beheaded," when drinking the tea had the unexpected effect of turning him human.

"At least you can't be _behooved_," the Mad Hatter interjected with a laugh, unworried about the Aporajangle's side-effects. "that's only for horses and cows."

Megan, who felt the need to inform the Hatter that the word 'behoove' had nothing to do with horses, said, "Horses _cannot_ be behooved."

"Then cats cannot be beheaded."

"Anything can be beheaded."

"Then why can horses not be behooved? They have hooves, correct?"

"Because _that_ is like saying birds can be _be-beaked_. Or that the Mock Turtle used to be an actual turtle! It makes no sense!"

"I _was_ a real turtle _once_!" the Mock Turtle sobbed, hiding his hooves from the Hatter.

"How do you know what sense really is? What do we all think sense is? How do we know who has sense, or who does not?" the Cheshire Cat mused aloud. "What if what we think is 'sense', is actually 'nonsense', and what we think is 'nonsense', is actually 'sense'?"

"Well, what makes you think that what does make sense actually does not?" Megan asked after a moment.

"What makes you think that what does not make sense actually does?"

"_Megan_..." the Mock Turtle half-sang, half-sobbed, "_Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance_?"

"Why, yes, thank you. I think I will join the dance." And so Megan danced, enjoying the moment of utter abandon that would engrave itself upon her memories for years to come.


End file.
